The Storms Roll On
by Rays of Color
Summary: Genderbent version of HTTYD2, and an alternative sequel to ATSO! Five years after As The Skies Open, we return to the now dragon-populated Berk. Except the hero of the story isn't in Berk, she's flying somewhere over the vast ocean with her faithful Night Fury. Join them as they soar above the clouds!
1. Back to Berk

**A/N**: Surprise! ANOTHER new story for my rabid readers. This is going to be my take on HTTYD2, much in the way As The Skies Open was my take on HTTYD1. I plan on mostly-ish following the plo/general gist t of the second movie, although as always with my own spin and extra scenes and such. Also, theres a good chance this may diverge in several instances from the particulars of HTTYD2, but that's still a ways away.

Now, I don't know when I'll have the next chapter up, as I only recently decided to do this and the first chapter kind of wrote itself without my permission _and_ I'm still finishing up school and thesis and blech. But come late may I should have some free time again, so there's a chance you might see another chapter by early june maybe?

Basically, not sure when, but I do currently plan on making this a full story. You may have to be patient, but I have plans, so I think you'll find it worth it. Review, tell me your thoughts, any suggestions you may have, and I hope to post the next chapter soon.

Now enjoy, and let the storms roll on!

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**Chapter One: Back to Berk**

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There's a village, located on the crags of a rather intimidating island, called Berk. And it's the best kept secret this side of...well, anywhere really. It may not look like much, mostly a pile of sticks on a wet heap of rock, but its got more than a few surprises.

Life for the people on Berk is amazing...provided they are not faint of heart. In other places, the locals enjoy hobbies like whittling or needlepoint, but here, the people prefer a little something called...Dragon Racing!

And, unfortunately for a brightly painted huddle of sheep, that was exactly what was going on. Skittish, the cluster drew tightly together, dodging between equally brightly painted buildings. The buildings, massive huts build of strong northern timbers, were painted in beautiful abstract designs that bordered on looking reptillian in a fashion. The roofs even had shingles that were shaped and stacked together in the manner of scales.

One very, very unlucky sheep, however, was painted in a very particular manner. Specifically, it was painted with a bright target. Said sheep was dodging between buildings and looking for cover when it was suddenly left in the open. A shudder of air overhead sent its comrades scrambling, while this sheep was left cowering in the open. It didn't even get a warning before it was snatched up, and all that was left behind was a bleat and a second shudder of air.

This second shudder of air was caused by none other than a very round Gronkle. It had a smug grin on its scaly face as it flew, the target sheep held carefully in its talons. Stripes of green and orange paint covered the Gronkle's face and forearms, in bold enough colors to be seen from a distance. This race was not about stealth. Which was a good thing. The Gronkle's wings made a slightly thunderous buzzing as it flew, and the large girl astride the Gronkle's back made an equally thunderous, if higher pitched, whoop of victory for catching the sheep.

"Whoo-ooo-ooo!" she cheered, lank blonde hair whipped back from her face in the winds. Her Gronkle echoed her shout with a buzzing, belching grunt. The terrified sheep just bleated, hanging utterly helpless in the Gronkle's claws. "Way to go, Meatlug!" Fishlegs said, her voice wobbly from the vibrations Meatlug's fast wingbeats caused.

A bright red and yellow shape swooped, crashing straight into her. Taken by surprise, Meatlug lost her grip on the sheep. The intruder picked it up, in the form of Snotlout and his dragon, the Monsterous Nightmare named Hookfang.

"Sorry Fishlegs, were you holding on to this?" Snotlout jeered as he and his dragon swooped by the other Viking. She narrowed her eyes in response.

"You're going down, Snotlout!" she replied, urging her Gronkle after him. Meatlug doubled her wingspeed to catch up, but Hookfang's huge wingspan took them easily out of reach.

In fact, the Nightmare carried his rider right up to another dragon racing pair: the Thorston twins and their Zippleback Belch and Barf. The dragons' brightly colored green hide clashed terribly with the green and yellow warpaint Ruffnut had chosen to wear, but clashed even worse with the black and yellow paint Tuffnut had chosen to coat his entire face with.

"For you, my lady," Snotlout said, tossing the sheep to Ruffnut with a bow. "By the way, you look amazing today. Did I tell you that? Because you do. The paint is really working for you."

Ruffnut easily caught the sheep, and then rolled her eyes at her friend. "Ugh," she grunted in disgust, lip curling at Snotlout. "Let's go Barf, there's too much Snot around here," she urged her head of the Zippleback forward, clinging greedily to the sheep.

Snotlout's oversized grin faltered as Barf began to pass him by. Belch's head followed closely, along with Tuffnut and his alarmingly painted face. "Nope. Still hates your guts," he chortled as his head of the Zippleback caught up with the other, leaving Snotlout behind without a sheep or a girlfriend. He pouted momentarily, but perked up as soon as he saw Ruffnut whoop with joy.

The main arena zoomed into view, a large open-air stadium with wooden stands. It was set on and around one of the large cliffs on the edge of Berk, and provided one of the best views the island had to offer. In the stands, it was possible to see for miles out to sea, and most of the village was in view as well. In short, it made for the perfect Dragon Racing arena. It looked somewhat precarious in places, with wooden planks and stands nestled along the cliff faces and spanning great gaps between them. However, over the past two years, the arena had been tested by multiple impacts and several fires, and remained entirely intact. Even the orange and blue paint was still bright.

The rickety-looking stands thundered as the four racing dragons came into view, as most of the village turned out to watch the day's race. A long bridge of wood spanned the gap between one cluster of stands and a neighboring cliff face, and all four dragons dived for this plank. The Thorston twins led the group on their Zippleback, and wooshed right past an opening in the wooden bridge. It was marked with green paint and the rough silhouette of a Zippleback's double heads. With a cry of victory, Ruffnut dropped her latest sheep to the opening, and the poor animal landed atop a bleating pile of it's brothers in the net that hung below. There were upwards of eight or nine sheep in the net. By contrast, every other net was empty, excepting the net hanging below an opening marked with the blue painted shape of a deadly Nadder. Three sheep hung in that net, looking mostly content with their lot. It had been a while since one of their brethren dropped rudely atop of them.

The rider of the Deadly Nadder was not nearly as complacent as the sheep he had captured. With an elegant twist, he urged his Nadder upside down and alongside Snotlout's nightmare. He reached out, and smacked the top of the burly dark-haired man's helmet, glaring at his competitor.

"What did you do that for, Snotlout?!" Astren Hofferson shouted, spreading his arms in exasperation. His frown looked all the more dramatic for the vivid blue and orange paint splashed across his face. "They're going to win now!"

"Ruffnut is my princess! She gets whatever she wants, I make sure of that!" Snotlout responded in a defensive but almost dreamy tone, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. He stroked his short stubble-beard thoughtfully as his eyes followed the distant shape of the Zippleback.

"Ruffnut? _Ruffnut Thorston?!_" Astren shouted incredulously over the wind, brows drawing together in confusion. "Hasn't she hated you since three months ago when you started calling her your lady?"

"Nah, we're past that!" the other viking responded gleefully as the two soared past a watchtower.

"She tried to push you off a cliff two days ago!"

"It was only like a seventy-five foot drop!"

Astren just shook his head in utter astonishment as the group of dragons swooped back towards the main body of the village. You wouldn't know it by looking at the current state of the village, but dragons used to be the number one source of destruction on Berk. Despite the village being seven generations old, houses never got a chance to age and needed to be rebuilt constantly from frequent dragon raids. Now, though, Berk was another place altogether.

On top of Dragon Racing being the most popular pastime (as well as the new best way to gain status in the village), the entire town had been redesigned to allow dragons and Vikings to coexist. Over five years, revolutionary additions to Berk made it a dragon haven. Huge dragon stables were hewn into cliff faces and caves, designed with maximum stone and rubble for recharging fire power, and minimum wood to reduce fire hazards. Then there were the feeding stations; large stone blocks with and endless supply of fish to keep the dragons happily fed _without_ needing to raid human foodstores. In fact, there was a special team of riders and dragons whose entire jobs involved catching fish to keep the feeding stations stocked. With predators as powerful as dragons, the task wasn't hard, despite the thousands of dragons in and around Berk. The village in general was better fed all five of the years since the battle with the Red Death than it had been in any of the last fifty, due to the dragon's assistance in hunting.

Additonally, large rocks carved into rough shapes and mounted on giant logs laid strewn around the periphery of Berk. These posts acted as a scratching and washing station for dragons, who preferred to scrub off excess grime with rock instead of water to avoid loosing fire power.

Most of the human houses on Berk were still made of wood, due to the enormous excess of lumber from the prolific island forests, but an elaborate fire fighting system kept fires from reaching dangerous sizes. Huge pails of water hung scattered throughout the village, about one for every ten to fifteen houses. Easily burnt ropes connected in a complicated network to these buckets, designed so that even a small, mild fire would burn through the rope and tip over the pail of water. Cleverly placed aqueducts routed the water from the source pail to each house, drenching their roofs and letting the water spill over the sides so that any flame was quickly extinguished and all other neighboring roofs were drenched as preventative measures.

The whole system had been designed by one Viking, but the entire village worked together to keep up the maintenance of this fire system. It was remarkably easy: each day, one person from a house in each cluster would check their local pail and make sure it was full, and the whole cluster rotated through. The rotating every-day checks ensured that even if one or two Vikings were absentminded, no bucket would go empty for long.

It was truly a remarkable village. Never had Vikings been so prosperous and happy. The dragons supplied plenty of adrenaline rushes, since occasional mishaps were unavoidable, but the hatred and violence between the two species had long since settled into a happy camaraderie. Even Chief Stoick himself rode a dragon, despite the thirty-odd years he had spent perfecting the art of killing the beasts before Berk's drastic change.

Dragon Racing was the chief's favorite sport to watch, and the massive man leaned forward in his seat as the racing riders circled back around Berk. Despite the size of his intricately carved wooden chair on the highest spectator platform, Stoick still dwarfed the seat. In fact, he dwarfed every other Viking in the village. The Haddocks came from the biggest and sturdiest Viking stock around, and Stoick was no exception. Even though he had tinges of gray cropping up in his red beard and around his temples, the man was strong as an ox and about the same size. In addition, he was incredibly charismatic and made a fantastic leader for his people. They all adored him.

Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Stoick leaned over in his seat, towards the Viking at his side. This man, while smaller than the Chief, was still made of sturdy Viking material. His right foot and left hand were completely gone, replaced by wooden prosthetics. Gobber the Belch, blacksmith to the entirety of Berk, suffered very little from the absence of two limbs. He could keep pace with any of Berk's warriors, including his long-time friend, Stoick.

"It's time, Gobber," Stoick said, tone deadly serious. His favorite part of the Races were the last lap, when anyone had the chance to win and make up for lost time.

"Right-o then," Gobber responded, signaling to one of the younger Vikings posted at a watchtower. The teenager blew into one of the village's massive signaling horns, and a low, massive not came out of the instrument. The sound wave spread over the island, quickly catching up to the Racers.

Astren perked up from his sulk atop his Nadder.

"The black sheep!" he cried, standing and leaning forward in the saddle, scanning the empty streets of Berk for any sign of the aforementioned sheep. When the horn sounded a second time, he settled back into the saddle, crouching low on Stormfly's back as his blue eyes narrowed in determination. "C'mon Stormfly!" he urged the vividly colored Nadder. "We can still win this thing!"

Stormly enjoyed losing as little as Astren, and together the pair dove close to the town, the peaks of many houses inches away from brushing against the Nadder's belly. They were no longer close to any of the other Racers; in fact, the entire group had spread out to search the town for the black sheep. A flash of movement close to the bridge down to the docks drew Astren's attention: one of the younger teens, a youth who was perhaps sixteen or seventeen, was preparing a giant slingshot to be launched. He squinted, and sure enough, a writhing black sheep was strapped in to the slingshot, trembling from horn to hoof.

"Go, Stormfly. GO!" he urged, and the pair swooped down, both utterly focused on the poor sheep.

A shape cut in front of them, several hundred yards away. Astren recognized the bumbling, buzzing flight of Fishleg's Gronkle. And then the sheep was launched, far out of his reach.

"No!" he shouted, but the large blond girl had already scooped up the black sheep from the apex of its trajectory. It bleated in discomfort as Fishlegs hastily dove towards the scoreboards, tucking it under one arm.

Suddenly, a large flame-red dragon knocked straight into Fishlegs. She lost her grip on the sheep, and once again Snotlout caught it, his sabotage successful.

"HAHA!" the brown-haired man crowed, punching his fist into the air in celebration.

"Thor strike you, Snot!" Fishlegs cursed at him, scowling. It was annoying, sure, but his hugely unsuccessful courtship of Ruffnut was amusing to watch. Fishlegs was sure if she wasn't engaged herself, however, she would be much more offended by Snotlout's dirty tricks than she currently was.

Snotlout carelessly zoomed off, swooping close to the Thorston twins and their Zippleback.

"Here you go, darling!" he smiled at Ruffnut, tossing her the black sheep. Ruffnut grabbed it from midair, and then made a gagging face at Snotlout, flying off with her new prize without a second look back at her would-be suitor.

"The black sheep!" she shouted, punching her brother's face in enthusiasm. "Let's win this!"

Astren's eyes narrowed. He was closing in on the twins, and with a smirk he muttered to himself, "not if I have anything to do with it!"

Just as Stormfly dove towards the twins and their Zippleback in a graceful arch, Astren climbed out of the saddle, arranging his feet along its length and his toes pointed out towards Stormfly's wings. With knees bent, the blond man rode his dragon standing up, loose strands of hair whipping around his face and his short braid slapping against the fur hood of his coat.

Stormfly drew up just above Barf and Belch, and Astren took a great flying leap off of the Nadder. As his dragon dropped swiftly below the Zippleback, the man landed on its flank in a crouch without slipping even a little bit on the smooth scales. His boots, designed for fall and winter, had tread that would catch even on slick, iced-over surfaces, as was the norm in the cold months.

"Ha!" Astren shouted, running up the back of the Thorston twins' dragon. While they were still squabbling about Ruffnut's decision to punch Tuffnut in the face, Astren had reached the point at which the Zippleback's heads split from each other. With another powerful jump, he snatched the black sheep right out of Ruff's grip and fell away from the dragon and its two riders.

"NO!" she shouted in dismay, far more concerned for the loss of the black sheep than Astren's safety as he fell to the ground. "YOU SNEAKY LITTLE RAT-EATING..."

But Ruffnut's curses faded to the backround as Astren fell, bleating black sheep in hand. Down, down, down, and then -

Stormfly swooped in, catching the blond man and his victory sheep. Continuing her graceful arc, the Nadder allowed her rider to settle back in to the saddle. Astren whooped with joy as he settled in, sheep held securely to his chest. The scoreboards were in view!

With a celebratory corkscrew, Stormfly took her two passengers directly over the scoreboards. Astren lobbed the black sheep into his net, where it joined three other regular sheep and gave a pitiful bleat.

The villagers, however, were not nearly so meek about this outcome. The came roaring to their feet, applauding and cheering for the most recent winner of the Dragon Races. Astren obliged his people, swooping low over the crowd and extending an arm so that the villagers could clap his hand in appreciation.

"Astren wins!" Stoick exclaimed happily, jumping to his feet with the rest of the crowd. "That's my future son-in-law!" he cheered pounding his fist into his palm in celebration.

Gobber frowned in confusion. "Did he ask Hiccup yet?"

"No he hasn't. But he did bring it up with me a few months ago, said he was waiting for the right timing. The young man's doing quite well for himself," Stoick observed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. The young man in question continued to accept the crowd's adulation, and Stoick thought to himself he would be a fine aid to Hiccup's future as Chief.

"He certainly is, that's the third time this month he's won the races," Gobber remarked, drawing up alongside his friend. They both watched the young man and his Nadder sail just above the crowd, easily accepting the cheers for their most recent victory.

"Yes it is," the chief agreed, bushy brows drawing into a frown. He sat back in his seat, frown developing into something between thunderous and sulky. "And this is the third time this month that Hiccup is no where to be found," Stoick sighed, resting his bearded cheek unhappily on one massive fist.

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**A/N**: Tadaaa! done. Review, and tell me what you thought!


	2. Where No One Goes

**A/N**: Hello again loves! i just submitted my thesis, which is kind of monumental, so as a reward for us both I'm posting the second chapter of "The Storms Roll On" much earlier than I intended. Keep on reviewing, and the next chapter might also get posted early ;)

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**Chapter 2: Where No One Goes**

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The afternoon sea was peaceful.

Well, as peaceful as the sea can be high in the Northern archipelagos when winter was fast approaching. But still, it was a remarkably calm day for the season, frigid water turquoise-bright in the high afternoon sunlight. The surface of the sea rippled in small waves, but no whitecaps appeared anywhere in sight, even though the Isle of Berk with its snow-capped mountaintops was just a smudge on the horizon.

The only warning that came before the calm was destroyed was a high, faint whistle of air.

A black dragon swooped low over the water, drawing out of a steep dive just in time to glide inches above the surface of the ocean. It flew so fast that the air in its wake churned the very surface of the water into a fine mist, leaving a dramatic trail to illustrate the Night Fury's path.

The dragon continued to flash above the surface of the water. Only yards away, huge deep blue fins broke the surface from beneath. Only the tips breached the surface, but one tip was the same size as the entire black dragon that flew above the water. These beasts beneath the waves were clearly massive, easily dozens of times the size of a normal dragon.

A small, black blob atop the Night Fury's back gave a wordless shout of joy, leaning over to one side to get a better look at the aquatic creatures.

"We did it!" a thin, nasally voice shouted above the roar of the wind, straining to be heard. It came from the black blob, which upon closer examination was the figure of a human, covered almost entirely from head to toe in pitch-black leather armor. "We found them! I've never seen dragons like this before!"

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III leaned further over in the saddle, foot and prosthetic foot effortlessly maintaining the flight controls on her Night Fury's prosthetic tail as her attention was diverted. With one hand, she reached out towards the water, straining her arms to their limits as the other kept a grip on the collapsible bar mechanism that she'd built into her black leather saddle.

As she reached down, a wing tip of one giant water-dwelling dragon broke the surface of the ocean once more. Hiccup stretched to reach the dragon's wing, but it looked too far out of reach. Suddenly, girl and dragon swerved closer, and the tips of the Viking's fingers brushed against smooth hide. She gave a delighted laugh in surprise; this dragon wasn't coated in tough scales, it's skin felt like leather saturated with some kind of oil to make it smooth, supple, and slick.

As the dragon's wingtip fell away, Hiccup righted herself in the saddle. She adjusted her helmet, a black leather design that covered her face entirely except for the small cutouts for her eyes. Miniature fins, scaled down versions of the spines that ran the length from the crest of Toothless' head down to his tail, decorated the crown of the helmet. Much trial and error revealed they improved stabilization and kept the high speed winds from buffeting her head around during flight. The helmet secured via a strap around the nape of her neck. The back of the helmet was mostly open to provide some space for her hair, which she bound into a tight ball with a thick black leather cord.

When the sea dragon once again disappeared into the water, Hiccup turned her gaze away from the fascinating new creature back to her best friend. A broad smile broke out across her face as she leaned forward and patted Toothless' head.

"Thanks bud," she grinned at him. The Night Fury crooned in response, able to hear the smile in his human's voice even if he couldn't see it on her small, bright face. A surge of affection swelled in Hiccup's heart as they soared. Five years, that's how long she and Toothless had been flying together, and sometimes it still amazed her how perfectly in sync they were. She hadn't had to say a word; Toothless had just _known_ she wanted to reach out to these new dragons and brought her close enough to make it possible. It was an unspoken but perfectly balanced give-and-take between them, but she guessed that's what made them Hiccup-and-Toothless.

Speaking of give-and-take, Hiccup could practically feel that her dragon was itching to try some more dramatic stunts. With an face-splitting grin she wordlessly complied, flexing her calf muscles (or what remained of them on her left side) to reconfigure the pedals. They shot forward with a drastic acceleration, dipping once again until Toothless' belly practically skipped across the waves.

A shape moved beneath them, and both dragon and human moved at the same time. Toothless partially furled one wing while Hiccup clicked the flight controls once more, and acting as one they corkscrewed, maneuvering under and then past the giant wing of the whale-like dragons while it took a mighty leap out of the water.

Together, the pair gave cries of exhilaration as they pulled out of the corkscrew and adjusted their sights to the skies. Toothless' wings flapped powerfully, each beat surging them forward into a near-vertical climb. A smile split Hiccup's face beneath her helmet as they flew into a low cloud bank; although the clouds blinded her to any landmarks, she could feel their speed building and building and building. A few more swipes of her dragon's magnificent wings and they cut straight through the other side, flying so fast the wind gave a high-pitched whistle as Toothless' wings cut through it.

The dragon in question pulled his wings in slightly, throwing them into a smooth corkscrew even as their momentum carried them upward. The circular motion pulled at Hiccup forcefully – any other Dragon Rider would have been unnerved at the very least, but Hiccup merely whooped with joy. She trusted her saddle and harness to keep her secure on Toothless' back; even if that failed, she knew Toothless would never let her fall. Beaming, she turned her face to the skies, leaned back in the saddle, and held her arms out straight to her sides. She let the motion of the corkscrew tug her around, felt the air wooshing past, and felt all her earth-bound stresses spin away.

The corkscrew became more leisurely as they lost both forward and angular momentum. Both dragon and rider could feel they were near the apex of their climb. Toothless crooned with content, the sound low and rumbling in his throat. Hiccup could feel the vibrations of her friend's vocal chords carry through his body and up through her limbs, and she giggled at the ticklish feeling of it passing through her fingers.

Then came the moment of weightlessness; their ascent had come to a close. Hiccup knew Toothless shut his eyes, for there was nothing he loved more than simply hanging in the air effortlessly, even if for a brief moment. As he coasted, Hiccup prepared for the next maneuver, pulling on the handles of the saddle until the bar released from it's clips and swung from small, light hinges she'd installed about a year ago. Hiccup pulled on that bar knowing that Toothless would register the change in pressure on the straps of his saddle, and the dragon did not disappoint. Together, they fell backwards as the Night Fury furled his wings.

They plunged right through the cloud bank they had previously passed through. As the gray mist enveloped them, Toothless spread his wings to full span once more, catching their fall. A few clever clicks of the pedals and another right corkscrew righted the pair, and they swerved off to soar through a neighboring patch of clouds. Though they were gray and ominous from below, from Hiccup and Toothless' vantage point, the clouds were white puffs of fluff, playthings to be enjoyed and explored.

Among the clouds they zigged and zagged, Hiccup often stretching a hand out to touch the insubstantial clouds as they darted by. She never got used to it; despite five years of flight, every time she she reached for the clouds she expected to touch piles of down, but her fingers only came away with a chill dew. Toothless, too, enjoyed playing with the clouds. He swooped and dipped, the tip of his wing knifing through the mist and leaving a sharp, dramatic void once it passed.

The maze of clouds soon passed, and the pair moved on, swooping more gently amongst the larger, higher clouds. With the more gentle ride, Hiccup once again removed her hands from the saddle, holding her arms out at her sides. With the air rushing by, the wide banking turns causing gravity to pull on her strangely, it was almost as if she herself had wings. She closed her eyes.

_This is freedom_, she thought. _Up here in the clouds._

Toothless evidently thought so too, and sensed her sentiment: he gave a joyous warble as his wings caught a draft that bore them effortless along the tops of the clouds.

Answering calls came from a stray pack of wild but friendly Nightmares, a few hundred yards off to their left. Here above the clouds the sun always shone brightly, the wind was always crisp, and anything seemed possible.

The thought tempted Hiccup enormously. They'd tried this before, with less-than-desirable results, but up here...

Well, nothing had gone _that_ badly before. And besides, Toothless would always save her.

Pulling her arms down once more, Hiccup patted at the Night Fury's neck. The simple action immediately claimed his attention as she saw one of his ear-antannae swivel toward her.

"Hey, Bud," she coaxed in her most encouraging voice. "You ready to give it another shot?"

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Toothless' pupils narrowed in alarm.

_What?!_ He responded to his human's query. After last time, he'd thought she'd decided to abandon the endeavor altogether! Personally, he felt a knot of worry settle in his gut at the mere thought of trying it again. Last time, she'd ended up concussed and woozy for a few days. _No, Hiccup, c'mon. This is ridiculous!_

"Toothless!" the scrawny girl admonished at his discontented grumbles. Although she could not see his face, Toothless felt his features settle into an expression of exasperation. Eyes half lidded, he hoped she could feel his deadpan glare, even if she couldn't see it.

"It'll be fine," she continued, voice bright with excitement.

_Yeah, because you're not the one who had to support the concussed idiot last time. You couldn't even stand up straight for two days!_ Toothless shot back, despite knowing Hiccup couldn't understand his individual words. She was a master at discerning his meaning despite that though.

"There's nothing to hit here, Toothless. It'll be fine," she repeated, patting his neck in reassurance. Toothless still wasn't sure he liked this idea, but he had to admit that the prospect of trying it again was just as exciting as it was frightening. With a low croon, he relented.

"Good dragon!" Hiccup cried. Toothless could practically hear the smile in her voice. He took a deep breath to prepare himself as his human adjusted the foot pedals. A long '_shiiink'_ of metal sliding on metal, and two clicks later, and he knew it was time. His prosthetic tail was held open, and Hiccup's prosthetic foot was free of the mechanism she used to control his tailfin.

"Ready?" the girl asked.

_Ready._

There was a two-second pause and dragon and human gathered themselves for the stunt ahead.

Then Hiccup fell out of the saddle with a wordless cry.

Toothless watched her small form fall away, arms tight by her side, for a split second before he followed her. With two great pulses of his wings, he caught up to his human, and they fell head-first towards the earth. Their postures were identical, bodies straight, limbs drawn in, and a gentle current of air sent them spiraling around a common center.

Over the furious roar of the wind, Toothless could hear Hiccup's giddy laugh, nearly bubbling out of her. Even though her face was obscured by the helmet that mimicked the spines that grew across his head, he could see her eyes scrunch up with joy, light dancing in her green irises as they floated around each other. Despite his misgivings and worries, Hiccup's joy was infectious, and Toothless found himself making his gummy-human-smile, his own eyes mirroring the expression in Hiccup's. The rush of air made his forked tongue flap about, and drew another delighted giggle escaped his human.

Toothless gave a great warbling laugh himself as they cut through the clouds, not quite defying gravity but yet being free of it. The sound of it intertwined with the higher-pitched sound of his riders laughs even as they went down, down, down.

After cutting through yet another puffy white wisp, the ocean was once again visible. It was yet a long ways down, but he knew Hiccup's self-appointed rules since the first, almost deadly attempt of this mad scheme. 'At the first sign of the earth, time to glide'. In spite of this new precaution, he tensed as Hiccup prepared to switch the the next stage. In one swift movement, she pulled her knees closer to her body, stuck her wrists into some cleverly arranged straps on the outsides of her legs, and yanked.

And then Hiccup had almost-wings, crafted of sturdy leather and spanning from the side of her body to the underside of her arms, and she was flying.

As soon as he saw his rider successfully transition to gliding, Toothless followed suit, opening his sleek wings and once again riding the air currents with an innate ease born of being a dragon.

He watched Hiccup with a careful eye as she glided alongside him. With her small wingspan and weak human strength, she was vulnerable to the buffets of the wind, and her flight wobbled with every change in the wind. And yet, she still glided. If the shouts of joy she made were anything to go on, his human was downright thrilled out of her brain to be flying like this, despite the turbulence. Toothless watched her wobble fondly, and when she peered over her shoulder and outstretched arms to look for him, he gave her another great gummy grin.

They skimmed along the clouds, Hiccup's mismatched feet and Toothless' mismatched tail leaving trails upon its crown as they flew. She burst into another peal of exhilarated laughter as he trailed along just behind her. This kind of flight was different from when they worked in sync, Hiccup strapped to Toothless' back and choosing a flight path together without having to use any words, true. It was different, but still incredible. His human had found a way to give herself wings, was trying her very best to be a dragon. Another rush of affection swelled in his chest, and Toothless let out a mild plasma bolt, in front of and below Hiccup.

"Whoa!" she laughed, using the sudden upwelling of hot air from below to gain a little altitude. They'd done this before, to extend Hiccup's glide time. Toothless shot again, again, again, until Hiccup had gained back a maybe a hundred feet to extend her flight.

"This is amaaaazing!" she shouted as they approached another cloud bank. From his spot below, Toothless watched his rider, saw the wind tousling her hair, clothing, and flying suit, the sun shining through the leather of her hand-crafted wings, and had to agree. This _was_ amazing. He was flying of his own will while his beloved human did her best imitation of true flight. It was no replacement for them flying together, but it was an incredible alternative, he thought as they plunged into the cloud bank.

Suddenly, Hiccup screeched, and Toothless startled. He looked up at her wildly wobbling form, and could tell by her frantic and ungainly movements something was going horribly wrong. Out from the depths of the clouds lurked a huge stone shape – a giant sea stack, too broad for Hiccup to steer around with her limited flight capabilities.

"OH GODS!" he heard her shout, even as he began pumping his wings faster and faster in an attempt to catch up to her. "This is no longer amazing! Toothless, HELP!"

His blood ran cold as he continued to struggle to reach her. With his prosthetic tailfin clipped open, his maneuverability was limited, as was his speed.

He wasn't going to reach her in time. Hiccup was going to smash against the rocks and die.

* * *

**A/N:** Until next time, my faithful readers. I hope you enjoyed, and please review!


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